Left Behind
by boasamishipper
Summary: Five times Miles left Ben, and one time Ben left Miles. No spoilers.


Left Behind by boasamishipper

**Wow…I haven't been in this fandom for a while, LOL. :) I've still been keeping up with the show, of course, and I think it is just absolutely awesome.**

**The idea for this fic just came to me one day when I thought: "Does anyone even remember Ben anymore?" So now, two hours later, I'm pleased to present my newest oneshot, "Left Behind". Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Revolution. The show, unfortunately, belongs to Eric Kripke. I wish I did, though.**

1\. The first time Miles leaves Ben, it's to go and play with a new boy who just moved in across the street from him, even though Miles had promised his big brother that the two of them could spend some time together. The new boy—Sebastian—is really nice, funny, and a great baseball player. The only problem is his younger sisters, Cynthia and Angie. The entire time Miles and Sebastian had played, they would squeal and cry and beg to be included.

"But eight-year-olds don't play with girls," Miles had tried to explain, which only made them cry harder. Gail—Sebastian's mom—had eventually taken the girls inside.

Miles and Sebastian play until dinnertime, and Miles has to go home. He braces himself for an onslaught of complaints from his brother, but Ben, much to his surprise, says nothing. He asks how it had gone with a seemingly pleasant tone of voice. Miles is grateful that Ben isn't mad at him and tells his big brother everything.

"Sounds like this Sebastian kid is pretty nice," Ben says, preparing a plate of spaghetti for Miles. Mom had had to work late and Dad wasn't home, so she'd told Ben to heat up something for them and she'd be home by eight-thirty.

Miles nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, he's great!" a thought comes to him. "Maybe…maybe you can play with us next time!" he offers with all the sincerity an eight-year-old can offer. His eleven-year-old brother smiles and ruffles Miles's hair.

"Maybe next time, squirt," he says.

2\. The second time Miles leaves Ben, he's fourteen, and everything has changed. His dad was _really _mad at him for flunking his biology exam. Miles had tried to explain that Ben had tried to help him study, but he really didn't understand it. His father had hit him, but Miles wasn't about to stand for that, so he ran.

Miles sits under a tree in the park, his knees drawn up to his chest. He sniffles, rubbing the side of his face, wishing his mother was there to help him, but she'd died of cancer last year.

He gets the next best thing as his seventeen-year-old brother appears. Ben doesn't say one word about Miles running off; doesn't yell at him or hit him over his grade. Ben places a hand on Miles's shoulder, making him look up. "We'll try harder next time," he promises.

Miles almost weeps in relief.

That evening, the two brothers study until Miles's eyes feel like falling out of his head.

The next test he brings home is a B+.

3\. The third time Miles leaves Ben; it's to go to a house party in the middle of the night thrown by one of the most popular kids in school. Miles ignores the stabbing feeling of guilt as Bass picks him up at around one a.m. He keeps wondering what his dad would do to him if he found out where he was right now, or worse, what Ben would say.

While Bass flirts with every girl in a ten-foot radius, he sits on the couch, holding a red cup filled to the brim with whiskey and takes a long gulp. A blonde with smoky eye makeup falls on the seat next to him and giggles. "Rachel, come here!" she calls, slurring her words. "I found a place to sit!"

Another blonde comes over, and she looks about as guilty as Miles feels. But at that moment, the only feeling running through Miles's head was reminiscent to one that he'd felt when he got hit with a baseball bat. "Heather, come on," she pleads. "My dad's gonna kill me if he finds me here."

"Ditto," Miles can't help but mutter, downing the entire cup of whiskey.

"Come on, Rachel, have some _fun_ for a change," Heather whines, almost dropping her cup of whatever alcohol she'd gotten all over her insanely short skirt. "Get your nose out of those books and do something fun."

"I'm leaving," Rachel informs her "friend" and does so, but not before shooting Miles a disdainful glare. Miles is surprised. What had he done?

"So," Heather drawls, turning to him, "what's your name again? Matthew?"

"Miles," he says, feeling more awkward than ever. Bass had already mastered the insane form of art that was talking to women while Miles still couldn't hold a conversation if his life depended on it. He makes to take another sip, but his cup is empty.

"Here," slurs Heather, shoving her cup towards him, "have some of this."

Miles takes the cup from her and takes a look at the contents. Vodka, probably. He sniffs. _What the hell_, he thinks, and takes a sip.

Just then, his twenty-year-old brother, majoring in biochemistry (and something else sciency that Miles can't remember at the moment) at Northwestern, comes barging in out of nowhere.

For a second, Miles thinks it's an after-effect of the vodka, but then when Ben grabs him and demands to know what he was doing here, he knows it's real.

Bass and Miles are promptly taken to the car. Furious, Ben drops Bass off at his house and then pulls into the driveway of their house. They sit, parked, for almost ten minutes. Then Ben speaks. "I come home to find you drinking at some party, Miles?" he demands. "Really?"

"It wasn't even that much," is all Miles can think of to say. "You should've seen Bass—"

"I don't care about Bass," Ben snaps. "I care about you, Miles, and I'm seriously disappointed in you." He punctuates the statement by exiting the vehicle and slamming the door shut.

Miles flinches as though he was slapped.

While praise from Ben was like praise from God, disappointment from Ben was as jarring as getting struck by lightning.

He never wants to be on the recipient end of it again.

4\. The fourth time Miles leaves Ben; it's to go to a foreign country where the chances are more likely than not that he'll die before he even sets foot on the ground.

Ben had not been pleased with Miles's decision to join the Marines, but Miles knew that this was the one thing that he wanted to do for the rest of his life: to be a soldier. To protect the United States. To be like Lucas McCain, Raylen Givens, and John McClane: all the badass guys who'd give their lives in a heartbeat for the greater good.

He rises through the ranks fairly quickly, Bass at his side throughout the whole thing. Both of them become sergeants, are liked (but mostly feared) by everyone on Parris Island, and are soon sent on their first tour in Afghanistan.

He nearly gets blown up the second he steps off of the plane by some IED.

Ben's statistics were almost correct.

That scared the shit out of him.

He hadn't heard from his older brother in a while now—not since he'd had his little girl, Charlotte, and had called with the news. Then again, thinks Miles, he probably hadn't given his brother much reason to call, what with the last real conversation they'd had right before he left.

"_Are you sure that you want to do this, Miles?" Ben asks, walking Miles to the airport terminal, where Bass is already chatting up some flight attendant. "You can back out, I won't think any less of you—"_

_Miles snorts. "Ben, I'll be fine…"_

"_Miles, you'll be in Afghanistan. It's _dangerous_ over there."_

"_Look." He starts to get a bit annoyed. "I enlisted. I know what I signed up for, Ben. I'm fine with dang—"_

"_All I'm saying is," Ben continues, undeterred, "is that you don't have to do this forever. I mean, you can go to college—"_

_Miles laughs derisively. "Why?" he asks. "So I can work some boring, meaningless desk job like you, get married, and have a house in the suburbs with 2.5 kids?"_

_A muscle in Ben's jaw twitches, but he says nothing._

"_I'll call when I can."_

Nevertheless, Ben calls the following week, inviting Bass and Miles down to their house for Christmas.

Miles swears he'll never understand his brother.

5\. The fifth time Miles leaves Ben; it's been almost seven since they'd last seen one another. Of course, in a post-apocalyptic world, it's hard to keep track of time, but Miles does it. He's scavenging in the woods around Chicago, trying to find more survivors like Jeremy to recruit into their band of vigilantes, like the Clayton sisters and the psycho, Strausser, when he sees _him_.

He sees Ben Matheson, the man who'd called him out of nowhere to tell him something that had sounded crazy but had been scarily correct; the man with two kids and a wife in his "custody"; the man who held two PH.D's in important fields.

He sees his big brother.

Ben looks tired and weary in this new world. A crossbow is slung over his shoulder, as is a small rucksack. His face is almost grey with unshaven stubble, and his eyes are bloodshot.

Miles almost shudders.

Almost mechanically, Ben sits down on a log, plopping down the rucksack and the crossbow, twisting his wedding ring methodically around his finger. Miles feels unbelievably guilty, because if it wasn't for him, Ben would still have his wife, and he'd be happier and wouldn't have to be a single father to Charlotte and Danny in this horrible world and wouldn't have The Butcher of Baltimore for a brother.

Instead of coming forward and announcing himself, Miles hesitates.

And he forces himself to walk away as Ben begins to cry.

+1. "His name is Miles Matheson," says the British chick.

Miles tenses up slightly. If they were Militia…well, they didn't exactly seem like Bass's spies. "Never heard of him," he says.

The younger blonde one looks discouraged and completely surprised. "No, he has to be here."

Miles shrugs, wanting this to be over so he could have some whiskey to drown away his memories. "What do you want me to say, kid?"

The younger blonde hesitates. "If you know him…or if you know anyone that does, can you..." she pauses. "Can you please let him know that his brother's dead?"

And at that, Miles almost faints.

"He was murdered by Militia," she continues.

His heart nearly shatters, but he just manages to keep his composure.

The one and only time Ben ever leaves Miles, it's to a place that Miles can't follow him to.

And Miles knows it, but it seems impossible.

Ben, dead?

It couldn't be.

Miles had spent years trying to protect his brother as Bass grew more and more unstable, trying to desperately turn the power back on; to protect Ben's kids, his little duck and his future Marine.

And what had happened as a result? His big brother was dead because of something he'd started in an attempt to bring back order, his future Marine was kidnapped, and his little duck now stood resolutely in front of him with three others, trying to get him to help her find Danny.

"That's it," Charlie says, finishing her explanation while he sits down because staying upright would've been too hard at this point. "He said to come find you and that you'd help us, and, uh...and then he..."

Even in death, he would point people to his family. _Typical Ben_, Miles thinks. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I wish I could've..." he trails off, wishing he could've done something, anything.

Because Ben, his older brother who'd never once, ever, abandoned him, even when he'd acted like the world's biggest dick, was dead. Maybe not by Miles's hands, but it was pretty damn close.

It would seem fate was not without a sense of irony.

"Miles," Charlie says gently, right when they're about to leave.

Miles looks over to Charlie and then, leaving the bottle of malt, follows Charlie, Maggie and Aaron out the door.

He'd go along with Charlie.

But not just for Danny.

For Ben.

And he'd try to make up for all the times he'd abandoned his older brother.

_Here's to you, brother, _he thinks, following Charlie and her merry group of followers into the light of day.

**So, what'd you think? Any good? Reviews, favorites and follows are greatly appreciated.**

**Thanks for reading.**

**-Boa :)**


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